


The Interchange

by dudewheresmytea



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Budding Love, Humor, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudewheresmytea/pseuds/dudewheresmytea
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale swap bodies for funsies and Aziraphale makes a substantial discovery. For Kinktober day 2. Prompt used: Bodyswap.





	The Interchange

“So, tell me, do you ever tire of that body?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley like he had two heads. “What are you getting on about?”

“Just as I said. Do you ever become fed up with walkin’ around in that same body from day to day, week to week, _century to century_?”

“I…I hadn’t really given it much thought. I suppose I am content with the body that I have. Why do you ask?”

“I’m bored.”

Aziraphale huffed softly. “Well then, I…” He then looked at Crowley intently. “You’re not onto one of your crazy ideas, are you?”

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale by the lapels of jacket in a mock show of dramatics and shoved his face into his. “Let’s trade bodies! I’m sure that’ll liven things up for a few hours!”

Aziraphale took a step back and gently pushed Crowley’s hands off of his clothing and smoothed out the wrinkles. “Don’t be silly.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Crowley leaned in again, which caused Aziraphale to look at him oddly. “Don’tcha wanna know what it’ll be like to be a ..deeemon?”

Aziraphale blushed slightly. “No, not exactly.”

Crowley leaned back, frowning. “You need to get out more.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll try it! But only… for the remainder of the evening – “

“ALRIGHT! NOW WE’RE TALKING!” Crowley exclaimed, waving his arms.

Aziraphale looked at him calmly and raised one finger. “Just one thing. We’re not trading personalities too, are we? Only bodies, correct?”

~

A short while later, after the swapping was complete, both men looked themselves up and down, amused with their new yet recognizable forms.

“This is wild,” Crowley exclaimed. “I would never wear a jacket like this.”

Aziraphale chuffed. “You came awfully close one time at that ball in 1901.”

“Aaarrr, don’t remind me! Place was teeming with dull buggahs.”

Aziraphale gazed at him, yellow serpent eyes piercing and bright.

“Well, except for you, of course.”

“Right. Oh and thank you for leaving me with the full bladder, I’m off to the bathroom.” Aziraphale turned and sauntered – his legs didn’t seem to want to walk in their normal way – over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Once inside he went over to the toilet and unzipped and pulled out his, or well, Crowley’s, penis and began to urinate. Out of mild curiosity he looked down and almost sprayed all over the room in surprise. He – err, Crowley – had a _notably_ large cock. Feeling his cheeks burning up, Aziraphale looked away, directing his gaze onto the mundane oil painting that was set onto the wall above the toilet. It depicted a horse running through a field. It also had a large cock.

“Gah!” Aziraphale cried, trying to keep it together. “What in the _devil_?” Not able to resist another glance, he looked down again and his eyes widened in awe. “Goodness _gracious_,” he muttered under his breath. “All this time and he had _this_ in his pants – _my god_!”

He finished and shoved the substantial offender back into the confines of his pants and went to wash his hands. He looked up in the mirror and almost jumped at the sight of Crowley looking back at him. Of course it was only himself, but … “Oh dear, why did I let him talk me into this?” Flushing again, he dried his hands off and exited the bathroom, preparing to tell Crowley that they should change back.

Crowley greeted him with a jovial smile and a perfect imitation of his mannerisms and speech patterns. Meant to be amusing, he soon realized that Aziraphale was blushing immensely. “What’s… going on with you?”

“It’s not me, Crowley. It’s you. What’s going on with _you_?”

“Wut?”

Aziraphale pointed at his pants. “You – “ He gave Crowley a quizzical look. “…_are you smuggling a python in there?_”

Crowley doubled over in laughter. “Oh! Did it scare you? Did you think it was going to ssstriiike?” Crowley made a snake bite motion with his hand, catching Aziraphale in the nose.

“That’s not funny, Crowley.”

“Yes it is.” Crowley put his hands on his chin and pouted mockingly. “Do you need to change back? _Have you had enough_?”

Aziraphale frowned and thrust his chin in the air haughtily. “No. Actually. Let’s go the full night as planned.”

“Right!” Crowley said, turning to retire to his bedroom. “Don’t worry, it won’t bite…” Laughing, he shut the door before Aziraphale could shoot back a retort.

Aziraphale shook his head. “Damn him,” he muttered under his breath but then instantly felt bad for saying it. Shrugging his shoulders, he grabbed a book off of the coffee table and entered his own bedroom and softly shut the door.

Letting out a sigh and avoiding the mirror, he undressed and pulled his pajamas on. They hung limp on his new, more lithe body. Switching off the light, he got into bed and turned on the reading lamp. Feeling distracted, he was unable to focus on his reading and he shut the book and placed it on the nightstand. Rolling his eyes and smirking slightly, he slowly smoothed his hand over the bulge that could easily be detected under his pajama pants.

“How did I spend 6000 years around him and not once notice this…behemoth?” He whispered to himself with a slight chuckle. Hoping that Gabriel or someone else up there wasn’t watching, he slipped his hand under the waistband, grasped the cock and began to stroke it up and down. Aziraphale wasn’t given to frequent bouts of masturbation, but every now and then urge overtook him – in absolute secrecy, of course – and he tried to now brush this absurdity off as simply being one of those times. But deep down he knew that it went beyond that. He had been intrigued by Crowley for many years now; he just liked to go about things slowly, bide his time. Make sure everything felt right.

He had wondered, often to his embarrassment, what it would be like to be doing this very thing to – “Oh dear,” he muttered, letting go of the shaft and pulling his hand away. “I’m awful. Bad. Incorrigible.” And then something dawned on him: Is Crowley doing the same right now to …. his…. _mine_? “Oh dear,” he repeated.

Aziraphale sighed, shut off the reading lamp, and turned over but sleep wouldn’t come. He heard a small thump in the room next to his and knew Crowley was still awake. _Mmm, Crowley_, he mused, _so close yet so far_, _though tonight you’re closer to me than you’ve ever been_. He felt something stirring below. _Seems as though the python is still in need of attention_. Snickering at his joke, he turned onto his back again and pulled his pajama bottoms down just over his behind so that his cock popped out and stood at attention.

Turning on the reading lamp and aiming it at the body part in question, he scrutinized it for a few moments, admiring its grandeur. Then, realizing he was without something slick, he miracled a bottle of oil and poured some into his palm, which he then transferred to the thick cock that looked as if it were begging to be touched.

“Do you need to be stroked, hm?” Aziraphale asked it softly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He brought his hand over and jumped at the first contact. “Ohoho, you are _quite_ ready. You are a real devil,” he taunted in almost a whisper as he wrapped his fingers around the head and shaft and stroked his hand up and down along its hard contours. “Oooh, oohh,” he cooed, attempting to ensure that his utterances and moans went unheard.

Each time his hand swept over the substantial and curvy head, Aziraphale shuddered and moaned. A few more sweeps and he found himself erupting, volcano-like, onto the bed and his stomach. He tried to miracle a towel at the last minute, but only was able to catch some of the ejaculate. He wiped up the remainder and settled back against his pillow, falling fast asleep.

The next morning he awoke and peeked into his pants to see his own cock again. Sighing with a mixed feeling of relief and a yearning for Crowley’s, he shrugged the feeling off and went into the bathroom to shower and begin his day. When he came out with a towel wrapped around his midsection, he spied a note on the floor. It apparently had been slipped under his bedroom door at some point during the night or early morning. He bent and picked it up. He instantly recognized Crowley’s handwriting.

_I told you it wouldn’t bite, angel. _


End file.
